La Vie En Rose
by titanicavatar
Summary: Misa Amane is an undercover FBI agent, a femme fatale, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Misa Amane secretly worships Kira. What Misa Amane doesn't realise is falling in love with the enemy is too dangerous a game. AU.


**Hi there, I guess I am eight years late to the fandom, I stalked around for a few days and now I guess I'm just stretching my toes around, lol. Anyway, I don't own Death Note.**

 **Misa Amane is more-than-slightly OOC in this story. Still with me? Okay, great.**

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 ** _"The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis."_**

 ** _Dante Alighieri_**

* * *

This world was rotten. It was infested with the whore, the glutton, the greedy, the sloth, the vain, the envious, and the wrathful. But the indifferent never batted an eyelid. The indifferent just stood by and laughed.

It was the indifferent who was truly evil. It was the law that was truly evil.

"The Messiah?"

She bit her lip and frowned, even as her friend excitedly scrolled through the number of web pages. She let out a low gasp; her friend was right – anonymous comments seemed to hail a so-called Messiah that happened to have popped out of thin air since the last few days. Surely she was out of track for a week, but this seemed to be a whole new concept to grasp.

"Cynthia, what is this about?"

"You work at the FBI –" her red-headed, slightly ditzy friend lowered her voice at that, almost forgetting it was supposed to be a secret that was never spoken aloud, "uh, seriously, you haven't come across this yet?"

It was a stupid question to ask. In any case, she decided to explain. "I was involved in busting a business scam. I had to go as a bar dancer. This job sucks, I tell you."

"Please, your job is cool. I spend my day in a cave typing code."

For someone as silly as her, Cynthia was an awfully good professional cipher. It was almost baffling. Cynthia was one of the very few trusted ones who knew about her inside job; in all honesty, Cynthia called herself a freelancer but occasionally took part-time cryptogram work from the FBI. In fact, both of them worked on the same case last month without even knowing each other until now.

"Someone is cutting down the number of criminals," Cynthia continued, "It's like an act of God. They're calling him these names - the Messiah, Lucifer, Saviour, Killer... _Kira_."

"What do you mean – cutting down the number of criminals?"

"In the last five days, around fifty worst criminals around the world have died of strange heart attacks."

"The CIA's poisoning their food?" she laughed.

"You'd think. This is divine judgement. Someone's up there saying enough is enough."

"You seriously believe in all that?"

"Yes," her eyes glimmered with hope, "Misa, your Robinhood has arrived."

In whichever case she had been involved, Amane Misa had been FBI's secret trump card. Blessed with good looks and raw sexual magnetism, her job involved being an up and coming model by day and going undercover as an agent by night. Within three years, she had mastered the art of maintaining multiple personalities, having hundreds of aliases and making her sexuality the greatest weapon at her disposal.

After her parents were brutally murdered, Misa Amane had believed working for justice was a better deal than sitting back and waiting for it. The law, as usual, was vegetated; they acquitted him due to lack of evidence – it left a deep, burning hole in her heart. Justice – no, justice couldn't exist as all-encompassing – justice differed from person to person. She joined FBI for the sole purpose of finding that man – her parents' murderer – pull him out of whichever gutter he belonged to and finish him herself. It was a long wait; she had to escape Japan under a witness protection programme, she had to act demented, sell her sanity, her soul, her everything. In the end, she was nothing more than a vigilante with a vendetta.

Busting criminals had been a part of the act. Misa had been called "this beautiful deadly sting of poison" in jest. She didn't care; everything left a bad taste in her mouth. So far she had failed in her cause. Failed at her revenge. Failed at her own brand of justice.

Cynthia broke into her thoughts. "Misa, look at this." She pointed at the screen; it seemed a shaky camera video captured from a big-screen or TV or something: _Japan Kira Vs L Media Stunt_. She clicked on it and the video expanded to full screen.

A black-haired Japanese reporter seemed to be talking straight from the ICPO convention.

" _I held up an international police task force meet which includes all members of nations. I am Lind L. Tailor. Otherwise known as L_."

"L?" Misa did a double-take. The world's greatest detective, that L? Before she could utter another word, Cynthia shushed her even as the said L continued to talk.

" _Criminals around the world have been murdered by a serial killer. I consider this crime as the most atrocious act of murder in history. I will not rest until the person or persons responsible are brought to justice. Kira, I will hunt you down. I will find you. Kira, I have a pretty good idea what your motivation might be. But what you're doing is evil_."

"What?!" Cynthia spat out, "The police just can't take it when someone else holds the leash, can they?"

"Kira, you should know – "

All of a sudden, the man grabbed his chest, choked on his words and collapsed face front on the desk. Two men hurtled into sight to help him, trying to pull him out of the chair. The chaos was blacked out and the screen flashed a stylised alphabet L instead.

" _I had to test it just in case, but I never thought it will actually happen_ ," a distorted voice reverberated in the room.

Misa wanted to comment, but exhaled as if she had lost the ability to speak. She looked at Cynthia – it was a similar effect; she too was staring unblinkingly, her eyes wide.

" _Kira, it seems you can kill people without having to be there in person_ ," the voice continued, " _Listen to me, Kira. If you did indeed kill Lind L. Tailor, the man on screen, I must tell you he was an inmate whose execution was scheduled for today. That wasn't me. The police had arrested him in absolute secrecy so you wouldn't have heard about him on TV or the internet. It appears that not even you have access to information about these types of criminals. But I assure you, L is real. I do exist. Now, try to kill me!_ "

"Fuuuuuck," Cynthia blew out a mighty obscenity before even realising it.

Misa pursed her lips. Who was this Kira person? An organisation? Some God? Was that even possible?

" _What's_ _wrong? Hurry up! Come on, right now, do it! What's the matter? Can't you do it_?"

"Do it, Kira!" Cynthia screamed into the screen.

No. The slight shake of head turned into a dismissive comment, "You know this isn't live TV, don't you? This is just a video."

L. She had heard curious stories about the great detective L. Every kind of it – of the lying, deceiving L, of the taking-law-in-his-own-hands L, of the arrogant, bored L – people loved to make stuff up. But never of an incompetent L. An old feisty officer friend had once called out in anger, "The L guy has more balls than the police of ten countries combined!" and the words stayed. She even had had an odd fantasy where a faceless L would bring the murderer to her doorstep and she'd throw one look at the pleading man and shoot him in the head.

And now, why was L taunting this Kira? Did he have a death wish? Did he already have a plan up his sleeve? Out of all people in the vermin-infested world, L certainly didn't deserve to die. The video was uploaded two days ago. Was he already dead? Would she have got to know if such were the case? No, a death like his would've been covered up. No, no. This already happened on live TV, didn't it?

" _Well, Kira. It seems you can't kill me after all_."

So he did have a plan. " _Since you've given me a very important clue, I'll tell you something that you'll find interesting. Although it was announced as a worldwide broadcast, the truth is, we are only broadcasting in the Kanto region of Japan. I had planned broadcasting this message around the world at different times, but that won't be necessary. I now know where you are. The police treated your first killing as an unrelated incident but actually the victim was a suspect in Shinjuku. Of all the criminals that have died of heart attacks, this one's crime was by far the least serious; furthermore, it was only reported inside Japan. You are in Japan and your first victim was nothing more than an experiment. I never expected things to go this well, Kira, but it probably won't be too long before I can sentence you to death._ "

"He is _good_ ," said Cynthia excitedly, "wait a minute. This is L. He solved that Los Angeles case – I can't remember now – it was something to do with weird names... Apparently the murderer had a thing for puzzles. I saw them, made no damn sense to me."

" _I'm very interested to know how you commit these crimes, but I'm sure you can answer all my questions after I catch you. Until we meet again. Kira_."

Nobody spoke for the next five minutes. Misa shifted uncomfortably in her position. "Well," she cleared her throat, "all we know is that this whole thing can be staged. Nobody knows if L even exists. This can be a lie. He's probably someone like – you know, like – like the Big Brother or something."

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She didn't delve much into it. A week later, L was still much of a buzz, and Kira was even more so. It was a regular mid-December Thursday night, when she pulled out a frivolous mink overcoat, and just decided to put in on and walk into the headquarters. Unlike other days, it looked like a regular office - people murmuring in bated breath, subdued and ... would 'scared' be an appropriate word?

Slightly confused, she put up a cheery front and plonked her handbag over on an unoccupied chair. "Whaddup, Michael?" she jokingly punched a colleague on the arm. He looked back, and wasn't very amused.

"You didn't hear it?"

She had a knack of remaining out of track of events. "About what?"

"The twelve FBI agents who were sent to Japan all died of sudden heart attacks."

Her insides twisted into a knot. "This is – this is crazy."

"Tell me about it. Man, it's getting scarier by the day."

"I thought Kira didn't harm innocent people."

"I'm guessing Kira doesn't... as long as you don't oppose him, or them, or whatever it is. Do have night duty today?"

She mused. "I only work undercover these days. I don't even remember where my desk used to be."

"Well, you climbed your way to the top, didn't you, you little shithead," the guy winked.

"It has its risks," she smiled back. He patted on her back and passed her by to check the incoming files. Having no work to do at the moment, in another fifteen minutes, she left the headquarters.

She some why still hadn't let all the Kira negativity get her. Kira had only been killing the criminals, and most of them would've died sooner or later anyway. As for the agents tailing him, it was only natural he'd feel threatened and want to kill them. Ethical or not, if they just let Kira do his job, wouldn't the world be a better place?

She stopped short on his tracks. The sounds she heard were unmistakably footsteps.

It was the first time she had comprehended she indeed was walking through a deserted lane at the dead of the night. She pulled her overcoat tighter to her chest and accelerated. The footsteps paced too. This was not working. She didn't have her gun – _damn it_ , God knew why she was this absent-minded – just a pepper spray.

She wheeled sharply. "Who's there?"

There wasn't much suspense. A man stumbled from behind a wall, his eyes bloodshot, face yelling murder. She froze in her spot.

"Misa... Misa Amane..." he drawled on with each step forth. He sounded drunk.

Her throat dried up. This man knew her real name. Was he – was he a stalker? Wait, she used her real name for her modelling contracts as well. Was it related to that?

"Misa... I was your biggest fan..." the man sounded on the verge of tears, when a split-second of doubt came over his face and it changed back into that of a raging killer. Without further ado, he drew out a big knife from his jacket.

"Go away!" she slammed her handbag into him but it made no difference. It soon dawned on her that she had been cornered against a wall. There was no way to run.

"I will kill you... and then kill myself," he breathed, swishing the knife in the air. She raised her arms to protect herself; the blade made contact with the skin and she felt her bleed.

This was it. This was definitely it. It was over, tonight.

The man had raised the knife, coming down any moment with the attack. Misa shut her eyes tight. She was about to be killed. The same way her parents were. Everything failed. Everything.

The next thing she heard was a gargled choke and the clatter of the steel falling onto the concrete. She blinked wide, even as the man collapsed with a gargantuan thud. "Huh?"

What just happened?

It was her chance to run. But it seemed her back was glued to the wall and feet to the floor. She wasn't sure if she needed to worry anymore. The man wasn't moving. She peered closely. His eyes were bulged out, his tongue plopped to one side, saliva dripping down his mouth, and both his hands appeared to be grabbing his chest.

A – a heart attack?

She broke into a run, as fast as her feet could possibly carry her. The alleyway ended and she reached a bus stop. Comforted at the very thought that there were at least a bunch of people around, she clasped onto a seat and panted for breath. Her heart throbbed viciously. Her head spun. White dots everywhere.

Was it Kira? Did Kira just save her life? Was the man a noted criminal who was bound to die? Was it a coincidence?

She jumped at the sound of her phone ringing. "H– hello?"

"Misa Amane. This is L."

 _What_?

"What?"

"Are you Misa Amane?"

"Yes."

It was the same distorted voice that she had heard on the video that day. Was this some kind of a twisted joke?

The line had disconnected. She checked the screen. It looked like a long-distance call, and number – if it were really L – was most certainly untraceable. Before she could regain her breath, the phone vibrated again and a different number flashed on the screen.

"Yes?" she began, steadier than before.

"Misa Amane. This is L."

"What do you want, L?" The words had already escaped before she realised it was probably not the best way to answer the world's greatest detective. Even so, she had her doubts. She didn't budge.

"I would like to have your assistance in the current Kira case, if you are not too intimidated about the killings of the FBI agents."

The voice was so distorted and unemotional, she felt like talking to a machine. "...Sure."

"Alright. Then tomorrow you are going to ask the FBI to let you in Japan on a personalised mission to keep tabs on me. If you require assistance, contact Stephen Loud. For safety reasons, in relation to this case, you will only refer to him as Gevanni."

She mentally flashed through a number of faces. Stephen Loud... Loud... was it the tall attractive blue-eyed guy in the Communications department? She couldn't put too much time to think while talking to L, or the line would disconnect again. "Er... Okay."

"This number will not be available the moment you hang up. However, if you proceed as instructed, the line will be live once you enter Japan. You will then call back on this number and get the rest of the instructions from a person who will introduce himself to you as Watari."

With it, the line went dead. She threw the phone back into her purse. There were too many questions, too much information to process, and too little time.

Why did L choose her? Why would he call more FBI agents after such a massacre? She had to ask for permission to keep tabs on L himself, under L's orders. The idea was so recursive her head hurt. What about what happened minutes ago? Why did that man die? Did L do it? Did L have the same ability to kill as Kira? Again, was it just a curious case of (mis)timing?

The Gods were playing a nasty game today. All she knew was that L did not leave her a choice. She had to know. And for that, she had to go back to Japan.

Japan. That _demon._

Japan.

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 **Hi there, again.** **Yes, I had thoughts about using an OC character instead of Misa but then I thought Misa's parents' arc and her association with Rem would be interesting to use. In any case, I may use Misa's original loud cheery (a little dumb?) personality as one of the facades she uses as an agent. Also, this story is most probably L X Misa, so it'll revolve around L more than Light.**

 **And I love reviews! :))))**


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